


Era's End

by WhyDontWeBegin



Series: Of Light[ning] and Shadow [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Bisexual Thancred Waters, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), G'raha is Hythlodaeus, Heavy Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M because it has really dark themes, M/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual G'raha Tia, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Polyamory, Tragic Romance, how do I describe the kind of shock it would be, no beta we just die, ok but seriously I warn anyone walking into this, there is a lot of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21761845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDontWeBegin/pseuds/WhyDontWeBegin
Summary: A collection of events that occurred following the Eighth Umbral Calamity, including the mission to change history and prevent it.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters, Hien Rijin/Thancred Waters, Hien Rijin/Warrior of Light, Hien Rijin/Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters, Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Series: Of Light[ning] and Shadow [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554742
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. The Awoken

**Author's Note:**

> so this was supposed to be like, a single, longer one shot.
> 
> it is not a single, longer one shot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G’raha Tia did not expect to wake up to this. Without them, yes, but not this. Never this.

He hadn’t known _what_ to expect when he sealed himself within the tower. G’raha had been certain that it would be the last time he saw his lovers, that when he next awoke the world would be far different and they would be dead and buried and gone. But that said…

He had _not_ expected this. To wake up, yes- but not to pause halfway down the stairs as he took in the appearances of those who opened the tower, looking around the area as they were. Their appearances were rugged, and though their attire bore the Ironworks logo, he could not see a single one who was not armed. It did not bode well.

One of them chanced to look up and they saw him and pointed up. He was a young man, black hair and green eyes, dark skin. What truly caught G’raha’s attention, however, was not that- it was not his half-pointed ears, like he was half Elezen and half Hyur, or his weapon. (A bow, of course it was a bow-)

It was the belt around his waist, lined with soul crystals, and the polished, though worn, stones attached. (Two, there were _two_.) It was the necklace he wore, with the same stone.

A necklace that matched his own.

(His heart plummeted to his stomach, yet at the same time beat fast and hard and _painfully_ against his ribs. G’raha felt sick- something was very, very wrong. Everything felt _wrong_ in that moment in a way that made everything in him freeze up and _scream_.)

He saw them talking amongst themselves, their voices drifting up to him, but he didn’t hear anything over the rush of blood in his ears, mounting panic swelling within his breast and bile burning at the back of his throat. Everything narrowed down to a single point- the stones were all with a single person. (Deep in his heart, he wondered what happened, but he already _knew_. G’raha already knew, but he didn’t- it _couldn’t_ be true-)

He reached up with a trembling hand, pulling his own necklace out of his vest, cradling the stone in his palm. He remembered when Sil’toh had presented them to him and Thancred, pulled out the one she’d already tucked under her own shirt. _“Something to connect us,”_ she’d said, _“even when we’re apart.”_ (She didn’t know how much it would end up meaning for them, not at the time.)

G’raha only realized he’d been approached by the one with the matching necklace when he cleared his throat. His head snapped up and he made eye contact.

“Are y’…” the man trailed off, eyes landing on his necklace, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “G’raha Tia.”

“… Yes.”

The man closed his eyes, jaw clenching. “‘M sorry y’ had t’ wake up t’ this.” _Dread. Fear. Confusion. Panic._ (He already knew where this was going.) G’raha paled. “Le’s talk ou’side. Easier t’ show.”

G’raha nodded numbly, following the young man on autopilot. There was a thick silence from his companions as they passed, and he distantly noticed their expressions. _Pity. That’s pity in their eyes,_ he thought. (Even his thoughts were distant, muffled, as though between him and them was a thick wall- or perhaps it was more like they were wrapped behind several layers of wool.)

All his thoughts and feelings felt incredibly absent once they were outside. It was very clearly still Mor Dhona, but… (it’d been a long time, some of the landscape had changed, but to him it was only yesterday that he saw Thancred and Sil’toh and Cid and-)

It was desolate. It _felt_ different. It was dark out, but he didn’t have to be able to see everything to be able to tell. He could practically _taste_ it. (Now that he thought about it, everything was different- _he_ was different. Everything seemed to be much sharper, like his senses were stronger.)

_No. No, no, no. It can’t be._

(Except it was.)

“Y’ve been asleep fer ‘round two centuries,” came the soft voice from behind him.

_No._

“It wasn’ all tha’ long after y’ sealed th’ tower tha’ th’ Eighth Umbral Calamity happen’d.”

_No, it can’t be. It_ can’t _._

“‘M sorry, G’raha. Th’ Scions...”

_No! No, no, no! It wasn’t- they shouldn’t have-_

“None of ‘em made it out alive.”

Everything froze. G’raha heard those words echoing.

_No._

He could still feel Thancred’s touch on his skin.

_Everything they did..._

Could still hear Sil’toh’s laughter ringing in his ears.

_Every fight they fought..._

He could still taste their skin. Still feel her hands in his hair.

_Every victory, every sacrifice, every tear, all the blood shed..._

He still had bruises on his neck from where they marked him, on his hips from her hands. He could still smell them on him, smoke and blood and the desert. The forest and ozone and a smell he could only describe as _Thancred_.

_Was it all for naught? All their suffering, their efforts, everything they gave?_

_And their reward was death?_

He felt nothing.

(He felt everything. Sorrow and hate and confusion and guilt and regret and a gnawing, all-consuming emptiness. He didn’t tell them. He never told them _he loves them_. And now they were gone and dead and he was still _here_ , alone, and he _never told them-_ )

He saw nothing.

(He saw everything, everyone he’d ever met, enemy or friend. Krile, Rammbroes, Cid, Nero, and so many others. He saw every moment he’d shared with them. He saw Sil’toh and Thancred.)

He heard nothing.

(He heard Krile, explaining something to him. He heard Sil’toh singing and Thancred’s soft hums of contentment and affection. He heard Cid, going on about some device or another. He heard Biggs and Wedge arguing.)

He was empty.


	2. The Survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hien survived, only to live within a waking nightmare. Yet still… there was a fraction of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be angstier than it is but yknow  
> himbo adopts a bunch of kids what're ya gonna do

Hien Rijin was not supposed to survive. He was not supposed to escape Black Rose. He knew this.

Yet escape it he did. He’d been with Cid and Nero, at the time- Sil’toh had insisted, after all, and he took the opportunity to check in on Naoki. When they received the news that a new weapon was deployed in Eorzea and there were no replies to any attempts at contact, his blood had ran cold.

When they learned the Scions had been _killed_ , Sil’toh and Thancred included, he felt his heart break. (He wondered if G’raha, if and when he woke up, would feel the same upon learning their shared fate.) And as the world descended into chaos, he knew. He knew.

He was _never_ supposed to survive. Yet survive he had, and here on the edge of the Steppe with the stars overhead and the glow of the flames, he pulled his son tight against his side. Naoki shifted and looked up at him with big, innocent, _scared_ brown eyes, but he didn’t say a word.

“… Father?”

“Hm?”

“… They’re not coming home.”

Hien’s jaw clenched as he sucked in a breath and closed his eyes to hide the tears threatening to spill over.

“… They live on in us, now, Naoki.”

Neither of them said any more after that.

—

When they reached Kugane, they found children starving on the streets. Hien knew he could not save all of them. But he couldn’t… he couldn’t just _leave_ them. (Thancred, Sil’toh… they wouldn’t have wanted him to. They would’ve wanted to try and help them in _some_ way.) He _hated_ that he couldn’t help them all, but he already had Naoki to look out for…

(Hien still gave as many of them food as he could. Enough to survive another day. Sil’toh had always hated seeing children in such a position, and he was aware Thancred had once been in a similar one. For them…)

It was as they were approaching the docks that he saw the girl. She was a young thing, curled up near the Shiokaze Holstery, dirty and battered and he could tell she was malnourished. Her hair was an auburn color, and her ears were pressed flat against her head. A Miqo’te. Naoki noticed it, too, because he was the one to approach her first and kneel down in front of her. She flinched back and Hien watched his son flounder for words.

That was how they met M’intana Rhel. They learned her mother had fled with her from the Black Shroud after Black Rose was released, came to Kugane- but she fell ill and died shortly after their arrival. Hien closed his eyes and contemplated.

(He already knew he wouldn’t leave her here.)

He offered her a hand. “Well, M’intana. If you like, you can come with me and Naoki.”

“.. R.. really?”

“Yes.”

She all but threw herself at him in a hug, and Hien had a moment of surprise before he wrapped an arm around her with a small, sad smile.

—

Looking out over the sea, Hien wondered. He wondered if they were truly doomed. Yes, he had survived. But for what? The world had become an eighth hell at this point, a waking nightmare for anyone who’d made it this far. This was no way for children to be raised.

But he looked back at M’intana and Naoki, chatting away, and there was a warmth in his heart. Perhaps- perhaps there was still a chance for something good to come out of all this. He would choose to believe that- if not for himself, then for the fallen. For the children.

It was that day that Hien pulled out a well-worn journal he hadn’t touched in the moons following the news about the Scions, and he began to write again.


End file.
